Greetings Programs! Enjoy this next instalment of the series and don't forget to Read and Review!

Accessing Archived Data…

Mara and Zed's relationship takes an interesting turn…

Mara looked away thoughtfully, "True." She looked around and caught sight of Lauren laughing with Dash, "But," she added, "if you hadn't have come we wouldn't have three new recruits," she gestured to the ship, "or a recognizer. Don't worry about Tron, he knows what you did, and yeah, it could be better." She stood on her toes and gave Zed a kiss on the cheek, "but it was still pretty good."

Link and Raven grow closer…

She held her face in her hands, trying not to break down completely. Link didn't know what to do. He didn't want her to cry so he put a hand on her arm to try and comfort her. She put her hand in his and after a moment seemed to feel better.

The two sat there for a moment, nothing to disturb them.

While Beck tries to put some distance between him and the Occupation…

"The Renegade" Pavel shouted, drawing his disk, "You just can't stay away can you?"

"That's me," Beck wittily replied, "Always looking for trouble."

"Get them! Pavel shouted.

With painful consequences...

"This is fun-YAAH!" Beck dodged the jab, but Pavel was just too fast. With blinding speed, Pavel roundhouse kicked Beck into the barrier on the edge of the bridge, knocking the air out of him. Beck tried to get up, but Pavel kicked him again, causing Beck to collapse onto the ground. "My, my," Pavel stood over him, "they just don't make rebellious programs like they used to."

And Tesler and Clu have had enough…

"I am going to do in a few cycles what has yet to be done in the several months you all have had to fix things," Clu stood before three programs. "This city has gone to the gridbugs as is evidenced by the unfortunate case of your commander Paige."

"We will have guards placed at the entrance of every public building, checking the disks of everyone who enters. We will have doubled patrols with the additional soldiers I've brought."

"Do whatever you have to do," Tesler growled to his men, "but bring me the Renegade!"

Nox slouched at the controls of the recognizer. His breathing seemed incredibly loud inside of his helmet; he'd forgotten just how much he hated wearing sentry armor. "Did I ever mention how bad of an idea this is?"

"It'll be fine," Beck replied, strapping an extra baton to his leg.

"But this is a really bad idea."

"Come on Nox..."

"A terrible…"

"We'll make it through this."

"...dangerous…"

"We'll be alright."

"...stupid idea."

A reassuring hand appeared on his shoulder, "Stop worrying. We'll be fine."

The former sentry gave him a shrewd look, "You've said that," he turned back to the controls, "twice."

The Renegade in white leaned against the cockpit's wall, "Hey, how hard can it be? We land on the launch pad in Purgos. I slip out and place the trackers on the Recognizers. With that, we know where their troop deployments are at anytime. I then sneak off and make my way back to the Hideout on light jet. Meanwhile all you have to do is land us and if anyone asks, you're transporting an empty container back from the Games."

Nox adjusted his hands on the controls, uneasy. "That's if everything goes according to plan."

"Cheer up. What could possibly go wrong?" Nox just rolled his eyes.

The first thing they saw were the runway lights that dotted the edge of the platform. The pulsing orange beacons encircled the formidable lines of Recognizers in the center of the landing pad. Several others were attempting to land as theirs made its descent. They had to wait in building anxiety for their turn to touch down. Despite how nervous he had appeared, Nox's control of the ship was rock steady as he slowly lowered them down onto the platform. Just as they felt the rumble of the twin thruster settling on the surface, they could see an inspection crew coming to meet them. Beck rezzed his helmet and looked to Nox who nodded, "Good luck."

As the pilot's cabin lowered to the ground to greet the inspection team, Beck crept up through the roof hatch and silently climbed down the opposite side of the recognizer. He could hear Nox's voice, distorted by the sentry suit, echoing from the other side of the ship. He knew he needed to get moving, but Beck stayed for a moment. Unable to discern the words of the conversation, he could still tell is was tense by the tone of the inspection team. All of sudden he heard shouts quickly followed by the sounds of disks being drawn. They must have blown Nox's cover. Beck drew his own disk and was just about to reveal his position when he heard the guards stow their weapons. Nox was talking to them in a calm voice although Beck still couldn't hear exactly what he was saying. After several seconds, he heard the guards walking away. Peeking his around the corner of the recognizer, he saw Nox standing at the front of the ship and the inspection team leaving. Without turning in his direction, Nox put his hand behind his back and gave a covert thumbs up. They were in the clear.

Stealing his way across the platform, Beck snuck up to the line of parked recognizers. Using a pair of suction grips, he scaled the underside of the large vessel and towards the top, stuck the tracker in between the two piston joints used for landing. Occupation ships hardly ever needed maintenance; no one would ever think to look here for a tracking device. Beck was just about to start climbing down when he heard voices below. Pulling his body flat against the cold metal, Beck looked down on three guards in conversation.

"So, did you hear what happened?"

"About commander Pavel, yeah."
"We almost had him."
"Ram, you mean?"

"Yes," a pause, "We could have used those power mods he destroyed."

"There not all gone."

"I know that, but only 'elite' personal get them. Like that honor guard that's been hanging around here."

"Ug, don't remind me. Still, it is closer to perfection."
"You say that like it makes it better somehow."

The three troopers wandered out of hearing leaving Beck to think. There was an honor guard here? Raven had told him about them. There had been dozens around when the Uprising had destroyed Able's garage. They were tough, well trained and ruthless. And adding from what Beck had just heard, they now had leftover power mods making them even more dangerous. On alert, Beck checked to make sure the coast was clear, and dashed to the next ship.

Their intel had said there were only forty-eight recognizers on the platform. As Beck planted trackers on each of the ships he began to realize he didn't have enough. He was nearing the end of the row when he counted the number of remaining recognizers, five. He looked at the trackers strapped to his waist, three. He was two short; there were fifty recognizers, not forty-eight. He stuck the last of the devices all the while trying to sort out what he should do. Should he just leave the last two without any trackers? "I mean, it's only two," he thought.

But he heard a voice, Tron's voice, in the back of his mind, "Think further down the line, Beck," Tron would have said, "What is this going to mean in the future?"

Beck rested his chin on his hand, exploring possibilities. If he left the two ships alone, the Uprising wouldn't be able to tell where they were. If somehow the Occupation found out about the tracking devices on the other ships, the could deliberately abuse the Uprising's blindness of the two to strike without warning, catching them off guard. "Ok," Beck stood up, "so I can't just leave you two the way I found you. But what's the alternative?" He crossed his arms as he surveyed the platform. His eyes landed on a black guard not too far away. "Blackguards always carry explosives," Beck said, getting an idea.

The guardsman didn't know what hit him. Beck had leaped from the top of a ship and tackled him to the ground. He had meant to knock the guard out, but the trooper was surprisingly responsive. As Beck fell on top him, the guard, almost as if he knew Beck was coming, rolled out of the hit and back to his feet. Beck stood up just in time to avoid a whizzing disk aimed at his head. "Surrender, Renegade," the guard ordered.

"Come try me-" but the guard was on him before he could finish the sentence. There was a formidable furry in the trooper's attacks that Beck had trouble keeping up with. The speed of the fight increased. He had worried the guard would raise the alarm, but now he was simply concerned with surviving the fight with the lone soldier. They exchanged blows, each hammering away at the other's disk. Beck needed to end the fight and fast, otherwise the sound of their engagement would draw attention. He kept waiting for an opening in the guard's attack, but his form was flawless leaving no room to counter. Lunging with his disk, the guard caught Beck's wrist and flipped him over his shoulder. The impact knocked the air out of him and soldier took the opportunity to kick Beck in the stomach. But Beck curled into a ball, grabbing the guard's foot and holding it against his chest. Caught off balance, the guard put his hand on a crate to steady himself, but Beck yanked his feet out from under him. He pinned the guard down and drove his elbow into his helmet. Panting, Beck got to his feet and pulled a few bombs off the unmoving soldier, but not before he was spotted.

"You there, Stop!" A guard shouted. So much for stealth, Beck thought as he scrambled over a pile of crates to lose his pursuers. Unfortunately, he was only partially successful. A quick hand grabbed his foot, yanking him to the ground, "Halt, Renegade!" Beck instead kicked his foot out, hitting the guard in the head. Taking off at a run, Beck could hear the alarms going off. He looked into the sky but it was too late; he could see Nox's recognizer far in the distance. Even if he had heard the alarms, it would risk too much for him to turn around and try to pick up Beck.

"Looks I'll have to stick with the original plan," Beck thought. With ten soldiers on his tail, he made for the two remaining recognizers and past that, the edge of the platform: his escape.

The knocked out guard woke up with a jolt. Confused, he got to his feet; why were the alarms blaring? His awareness came back with a wash of vertigo as he steadied himself against a nearby create. The Renegade was here. He had fought him. He should have beaten him, too. Stumbling a few steps, he vaguely remembered how he was knocked out, how the Renegade had grabbed his foot and caused him to fall. He had a pulsing headache and putting his hand to his head he noticed his disguise was gone. But he no longer cared about his cover. The Renegade was on site and that was all that mattered.

An explosion came from his right and he turned to see a recognizer smash into the ground, burning and in a shower of voxels. Protecting his head from the raining debris, he looked up just into to see the Renegade making for the edge of the platform. Drawing his disk, he sprinted after him.

"Almost there," Beck told himself as he bolted for the edge, "almost there." He heard a sharp buzzing behind him and instinctively ducked. Rolling back to his feet, he saw the flying disk return to a guard in hot pursuit. It was the same one from earlier only now Beck realized why he had been so tough. With yellow grid lines and a now visible chevron armband, this was an Honor guard. Beck had no doubt he had been given one of the few remaining power mods. The mod gave increased strength and speed and Beck was in no hurry fight someone with that advantage.

With the guard gaining on him, Beck ran between the legs of the last Recognizer and threw the explosive to one of the thrusters. He heard it make contact and only hoped the bomb stuck to the surface like it was supposed to. No sooner had the thought left his mind than the sound of footsteps came up rapidly behind him. An instant later he was tackled to the ground by the Honor guard. Beck planted his foot against the soldier's chest and pushed him off. They got to their feet and were about to square off when the bomb detonated. They were both so close that the blast sent them flying, but luckily Beck had the good sense to angle himself towards the ledge. His air time ended with a thud on the ground, bruising his shoulder. He stood up only to see the Honor guard charging at him, "Does this guy ever let up?" Beck thought begrudgingly. He was soon distracted, however, by what was above the oncoming soldier; the explosive had blown the leg out from under the recognizer which was causing the cockpit, now only supported on one side, to fall towards them.

The Honor guard was almost on him. The Renegade was not going to escape. Not today. He was two strides away when he noticed the vigilante in white was looking past him. He only had a moment to look up at the falling wreckage before it hit. Both he and Beck dove for cover as the smoking remains of the recognizer slammed into the landing platform, engulfing the immediate area in an explosive inferno.

TRON Uprising:

Followed

For one of the busiest rooms in the Hideout, the observation deck was remarkably tranquil for Raven. The long, uninterrupted curved window gave a breathtaking view of Argon, a fact that in the day-to-day scramble of the Uprising was seldom appreciated. She had originally come up to finish decrypting a set of intercepted messages, but when she had finished, she realize just how loath she was to return to the hectic fray of training and combat exercises. Everyday it was more ambush drills, technique lessons, and endless vehicle practice. Zed had gone a little overboard in the exercises he planned for them. Even as a trained soldier, not even Raven escaped the vehicle combat drills without a score of bruises.

Giving a deep sigh, she pushed the thoughts about training away, they could wait. From the intel they had gathered, the Occupation had been relatively passive these last few cycles. Raven personally was just fine with a lull in the action, but the quiet had made many people restless. Tron had ordered a rest day that cycle to ease the tension, they were all getting a little sick of living in such close quarters with each other. She had initially been glad to have the cycle off, but it wasn't until about an hour later that she realized that without a threat from the Occupation, there wasn't much to do around the place. Her decision to decrypt Occupation missives had been more from boredom than anything else.

The door opened behind her, "Oh, Raven. I didn't know you were up here."

"Hey, Mara. No come in, its fine."

The teal haired program joined her at the window, "I've almost forgotten how beautiful Argon looks from up here."

Raven studied the the cityscape. A lone orange dot passed by. "It'll be even better when the Occupation is gone." Mara assented in silence. She had been one of the few to argue with the order for a day of leave; in Mara's opinion, they needed every moment to get the edge over Clu. She'd said as much to Tron.

"We can't just wait around," she had told him, "we want to-"

"Enthusiasm is good," Tron had said, "but it becomes nothing but recklessness without discipline. It's just as important knowing when to wait as when to fight."

"But Beck and Nox are out there getting information, information that can help us!"

Tron had been stoic, "And when they get back, there will be plenty to do." His expression had then softened, "Get some rest. Talk with your friends, the Uprising is nothing if we don't trust each other."

His last remark had been rather cryptic now that Mara thought about it, but not wanting to press the point beyond reason, she had let the matter drop. "So," Raven's voice pulled her back to the present, "you have anything planned for today? Anything with Zed?"

"Not especially," she turned to the ex-soldier with a raised eyebrow, "What do you mean 'with Zed?'"

"Link and I might do something and I was just curious if you and Zed wanted to come."

Mara put her hands, "We're not a- don't think that we're a…" This time it was Raven's turn to raise an eyebrow. "We're just good friends. But did he-I mean- did someone say something?" Despite herself, she couldn't keep the trace of eagerness out of her voice.

Raven shrugged, "No. It was just an invitation. Beside I don't even know what we're doing." she added with a chuckle.

Looking for change of subject, "So," Mara asked, "You and Link. Are you two…?"

Raven just looked at her,"...yeah?"

"You know," Mara suddenly felt very uncomfortable, "a…'thing?'"

The other program just smiled, "A 'couple?'"

"Yeah!" Mara replied, relieved for some reason that she hadn't been the one to say it.

Untouched, Raven casually turned back to the window, "Yes. It's nice to have someone to talk to." There was long pause and Mara felt the awkward tension was so thick she could cut it with her disk. They were eventually saved when the door opened again. Both female programs turned to see Link enter.

"Hey Raven-oh," he stopped at seeing Mara, "Did I interrupt something?"

"Nah," Mara assured him, "we were just talking about Ze-" she caught herself, "we were talking about Beck." Raven shot her a sly look, but Mara ignored her, "Just wondering when he's going to get back."

Yeah," Link replied, "he and Nox have been gone a while." He turned to Raven, "You ready to go?"

"Yup," she replied, joining him at the door. As they left, she called back to Mara, "Have fun with Zed!" she said with a grin.

"I'm not-" but the door had already closed, leaving Mara alone with her half finished reply.

000

The scrap dumpster moved when Beck ducked behind it to change out of his Tron white. He only hoped no one was watching him. He removed his disk and twisted the white section off. Stowing it, he put his normal disk back on and watched as his suit dissolved back to black. Standard Grid attire. Although hiding in a narrow alleyway where he could see both ends, Beck had kept his vizor up when changing disks. He couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched.

He ducked out of the dark corridor into the thin crowd of people walking the streets of Purgos. Ever since Pavel had culled the population of the city, the few who remained were not allowed to leave. Fewer still would dare venture out of doors at all and when they did, they kept their gaze firmly locked on the streets beneath their feet. What was there to look up for? Many wore hoods and helmets that obscured their faces, so Beck's incognito appearance was hardly out of the norm. The once sprawling city of refuse and crime now was unsettlingly pristine. At every corner, ever boulevard, at the door of every home and club were repurposed guards standing vigil. And he had thought the Occupation's presence in Argon was oppressive, these people couldn't so much as breathe without a guard jumping them. Beck's stomach turned; one day he'd make all this right, one day the Uprising would make all this right. But until then, he put his head down and quickened his pace. He still needed to get out of the city.

Beck had only been to Purgos a handful of times before Clu had come to Argon. After that, he had kept his visits to an absolute minimum. Now he was beginning to regret it. The unfamiliar byways and paths were a complete puzzle to him and his journey outwards of the city center was frustratingly tedious. Unlike Argon, Gallium, or Bismuth, Purgos seemed to have no rhyme or reason to its layout. Streets twisted into one another, traffic lanes that went one way nonsensically merged into others going the opposite direction, roads with a full four lanes on a map, in the reality were nothing more than narrow streets barely big enough for a pedestrian. Despite however cruel the Occupation was in taming the wild city, it seemed they could do nothing to straighten it out.

Yet, no matter how many bizarre streets, avenues and boulevards Beck traversed to get to the city's edge, he couldn't shake the sense of prying eyes. Several times he had stopped to look behind him, but no one readily presented themselves. He'd even ducked into a side street to see if his phantom pursuer would follow. But nobody came. As Beck reached the mid rim of the city, his growing sense of paranoia had become unbearable. He almost wished he was being followed, at least then he could try to confront whoever this program was. The roads being too narrow to use a light cycle, Beck had to hike his way out of the city on foot. When the mission had first been proposed by Tron, it had come with a strict warning not to use his light jet. Beck didn't need to ask why. The heavy Occupation presence here would have shot down any flight in a bit-beat. No one was allowed a light jet here and any unauthorized take offs were blown out of the sky, no questions asked.

He rounded a corner only to quickly duck behind it again. A large column of sentries were marching down the avenue. Even though he was disguised, Beck didn't feel like taking the risk. Doubling back, he found a narrow side street where the buildings had fire escapes. Grabbing the bottom rung of the nearest ladder, he made for the roof. The open air greeted him at the top and with no one around, Beck lowered his helmet for a moment to take a rest. Perched on the ledge of the building, he looked out over the abused city. Several recognizers in the distance took off, their faint rumbling echoing through the labyrinth like streets below.

For a while Beck merely sat there, enjoying the view. For a city that had once been a slime hole and now was the embodiment of Clu's iron grip, it was remarkable beautiful. Playful nightclub signs dotted the concave metropolis, spiraling around the central platform down in the center where bright, bold spot lights filled the misty air with luminous clouds. He remembered that Purgos had once been an artist district, devoted to cultivating creativity and free formed expression. Although the programs had changed, the city hadn't. In a way that was its own form of resistance, remaining beautiful in the face of Clu's stoic perfection. The cool breeze complimented the view and Beck couldn't help but remember a similar scene from back in Argon. He and Paige had gone out on a, well, a something, he still wasn't sure what to call that night. The way she'd looked in the dim glow of the city lights, his mounting hope she would see the evil of the Occupation and join them; that night had been good. Beck pushed the thought away as he got to his feet. She was dead. There was no point lamenting over something he couldn't change however much he wanted to.

There was a soft clink behind him and Beck rezzed his visor on instinct. Turning, he saw nothing. It was just an empty rooftop- there! It had been a mere flicker, but he had seen it. A small sliver of an orange grid suit had ducked behind a vent outlet. So he was being followed, Beck thought. On a hunch he'd say it was the Honor guard from the platform. The soldier got points for determination, if nothing else.

Spinning around, Beck sprinted toward the opposite roof's edge and took a leap onto the neighboring building. The sound of pounding footsteps behind let him know the guard had given up any pretense of remaining covert. He came to the next ledge and dove over the gap onto another roof. The thud of the guard's pursuit was uncomfortably close and Beck realized that with the power mod, the Honor guard would catch him in no time. He had to loose him and fast. There was no way he could get back to street level without attracting attention from more soldiers, but running across the rooftops wasn't any better. He needed a way to redirect the guard's attention for just a few seconds, then he could sneak back to ground level and disappear. But the roofs were too open, there was no place Beck could go without being in direct line of sight. Then again, maybe he could use that to his advantage.

Beck leapt another building with the honor guard close behind. The soldier was less than four meters away and in less than a minute, he would have him. Under other circumstances, the guardsman might have felt some satisfaction, but considering the Renegade had blown up two recognizers and nearly escaped, his capture would be the only thing to prevent the guard from being sent to the Games. Not that he feared the games, with the power mod, he was unstoppable; he could defeat any combatant with his hands tied behind his back. Under his helmet, the soldier's expression hardened; maybe Clu already knew that, that the Games would be an insufficient punishment. Such a thought brought more unsavory ideas to mind. He shook his head. It wouldn't come to that. The Renegade was his.

Two meters to go. Just as he was debating whether to lunge at the rogue program and close the distance then and there, the Renegade suddenly turned and dove off the side. The move was unexpected, his target had been moving in a linear path for entirety of the chase, why jump off here? The answer shot up out of the alleyway as a light jet blasted past him. A light jet? Was this program an idiot? He wouldn't make it five leagues before being shot out of the sky. Rezzing his own baton, the Honor guard flew up into the air after him, intent on bringing the other jet down himself.

Beck hung onto a window ledge, not willing to move until he was sure it had worked. His decoy jet shot up and…there went the soldier, trailing after. Beck had rezzed his light jet without getting on it; the guardsman was following an empty vehicle. He watched the two until they were at a safe altitude before hoisting himself up through the window. With any luck, he could put some significant distance between them before the guard realized the ploy. He would exit the building on the other side, doubling back in the direction they'd come; the last thing the guard would expect was from him to head back into the city.

He took a step and immediately knew something was off. The floor had a rickety feel to it, giving ever so slightly under his feet. "Great," Beck mumbled. Although Purgos was a glistening image of perfection on the outside, that didn't mean the interior of the buildings was any less seedy. And by the look of the flood plate under him, Beck must have sneaked into of the seediest joint in town. The metal used for the floor was obviously cheap with a thick layer of grime coating the slick surface. But what concerned Beck more was the profound corrosion everywhere. It was bad, there were several large holes in the material and Beck could dimly make out what looked like programs dancing on the floor below him.

By all accounts, the place had the appearance of a night club, not that it mattered, he needed to find a way out of the building. He didn't want to risk exiting through the same window as he'd entered through, what if the guard was watching? On the other hand, there was another window at the opposite end of the corridor. He put a tentative foot forward, if he could just-

But there was no "just". Under the slight pressure of his extended foot, the floor gave way. With all his weight leaning forward, Beck crashed through the decaying boards and tumbled down and down as a multi colored floor came up to meet him. He slammed into the ground with a loud crack and blacked out.

000

"So," Raven asked as she and Link walked toward the training floor, "What did you want to do?"

Linked paused for a moment, "I was hoping we," he stopped only to sigh, "I was hoping we could practice some more. You know, since we'll have the training floor all to ourselves."

Raven frowned. More training? Was that what he really wanted to do on their day off? She was so tired of the rigor of combat drills, both doing and teaching them that the Uprising's rest day had been a welcomed respite. To hear that Link wanted to spend their time off doing more of that was not only unexpected, but irritating as well. "You want to do training?" she did her best to keep her annoyance out of her voice.

Link looked slightly offended, "Well, we don't have to," he replied as the two entered the combat room, "I thought it would nice."

There were many other words Raven thought to call it, but restrained herself. If it was important to Link, then it was what it was, not that she was any happier about it. "Alright," Raven replied rather shortly, "What simulation did you want to run?"

"There isn't one you want to do?"

Raven crossed her arms, "No."

Link looked like he was about to say something, but quickly clenched his mouth shut. He wordlessly turned to the console and rather forcefully punched in a request. The room began to digify into an urban landscape set on the side of a large skyscraper. Wispy synthetic clouds floated above their heads, illuminated by the generated city glow from several stories below. "Is this fine?" Link asked, his tone tight.

"It's fine" Raven replied.

"Because I can change it-"

"I said, it's fine," she cut him off. The sooner they finished this, the sooner she might be able to actually enjoy the rest of their day off.

"Fine," Link curtly replied.

"Fine," Raven said, "Are you ready to start, yet?" Link just drew his disk and got into a ready stance. I guess that answers that, Raven thought. She took several steps away to give them ample room, then drew her own disk. An automated voice came from overhead in the simulated environment.

"Combatants, are you ready?"

"Yes," Link said. Raven simply nodded.

"Beginning exercise 96 in three...two...one." And the two went at it.

000

Beck's eyes snapped open. He bolted upright, but a firm hand pushed him back onto the mat he was laying on. "Stay, you were injured," a silken voice said. He turned to see it was a white siren.

"Who are you?" Beck demanded. He glared at the female program through his vizor, which he was glad was still up. She didn't answer him, instead giving him a curious look accompanied by a whim smile. There was something haunting in the way she held her head. Beautiful, yes, but also unsettling. "I said, who are you?" Beck repeated, shrugging her hand off.

"The question is my boy, who are you?" Turning his head, Beck saw another program enter the room. He was flamboyantly dressed with a glass cane, long white hair, and an electric smile. He was twirling a white disk in his left hand and Beck's eyes widened as he reached for his back.

"Yours is where you left it," the stylish program said, "I only thought this," holding up the Tron disk, "was rather interesting." Beck got up, but the siren placed her hand on his arm. Beck was about to push her off when the other program waved to her and she let go.

"I'll be needing that back," Beck said, taking the white disk from the classy program.

"Of course," the other replied, "Although I'm curious as to what it is"

"You didn't check my disk?"

"No peeking," the other program held a palm over his chest and raised his other hand, "I solemnly swear."

"Right…" Beck's tone was skeptical, the strange program didn't seem to notice. He stuck out his hand.

"The names Castor, formerly Quix."

"You changed your name?" Beck raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," Castor's tone was cautious, "not the first time I've had to I'm afraid, although this instance was for more 'professional' reasons. You see," he crossed over the female program, "business has been rather...inconvenient what with the heavy Occupation presence in Argon at the moment. I run a series of nightclubs and thought a change of scenery would be...beneficial."

"So you chose Purgos?" Beck remarked, amused.

"'Chose' is a rather strong word." Castor leaned on his cane, "I had places open here since before Clu came to be high and mighty."

"Really?" Beck replied, genuinely interested.

"Oh yes, really," there was that electric smile again, "This place was scintillating back then. Things eventually went down hill, but my clubs were still the toast of the town, even if the town had gone to voxels."

Beck was about to ask another question, but thought better of it. He still had to get out of Purgos. "See you around," he said as he made for the door.

"You're trying to leave, aren't you?" Beck stopped at threshold, his stance asking the question, "A lot of programs are trying to, yours truly included." Castor sat down calmly on a colorful couch, "Problem is, I bet you have no idea where you are."

"If your offering help," Beck turned again to the exit, "Thanks, but no thanks."

He was already out in the street when Castor spoke from the doorway, "I have a map." Beck stopped, thinking. A map would make his escape easier as well as giving the Uprising some much needed intel on Purgos. But something about Castor and his siren companion felt off. They were too friendly. Adding to that, Beck didn't entirely believe that Castor hadn't looked at his disk. But a map was a map and Tron would be wondering why he hadn't reported back on time if he didn't get out of the city sooner rather than later. He turned back to the club entry way in which stood the two strangers; Castor's grin was gone, replaced by a wary expression.

"How good of a map?" Beck asked.

"Excellent," Castor flashed his smile, "Clu himself couldn't find fault with it."

"One other question," Beck crossed his arms, "Why help me?"

Castor's face tightened and his tone grew serious, "I don't have to check your disk, my friend, to guess who you are." He extended his hand, in it was a small, round device. He pushed the middle of it with his thumb and a holo display of the city's layout appeared. Pressing it again and turning off the display, Castor offered it to Beck.

The Renegade wordlessly accepted it and began to walk away when he turned around to ask the strange duo, "You never said how you planned on getting out of Purgos."

"Don't worry about us," Castor faintly smiled, "we'll make it out just fine."

Beck didn't linger. With a last glance at his bizarre benefactor, he ducked into the passing crowd, keeping his map hidden as he made his way outward of the city center.

"He won't make it far," Gem said.

"That hardly needs saying," Castor grimly replied. "Find the honor guard. The one who came by earlier." He turned back into the defunct club, "In exchange for safe passage out of Purgos, tell him we can help him find the Renegade."

000

Zed leaned against the wall, watching Raven and Link go at it from the observer's window. He had gone to training floor to try to practice (there being nothing else to do) when the computer had told him it was currently in use. Upon entering the observer's room, he had seen who it was and had stayed to watch the fight. He wasn't disappointed. Raven's skill and experience clearly showed in how she anticipated and countered Link's jabs, but Link himself wasn't so too bad, either. The lanky, timid program Zed had known back in the garage had learned a thing or two and was actually managing to stand his ground against Raven's expert assaults, a fact that didn't escape her notice. Link wasn't quick, but he was patient, waiting out Raven's quick blows until he saw an opening. She'd push him to the edge of the platform and just when it looked like she had him beat, he'd juke around her toward the center of the arena.

Zed had seen him do this three of four times and it was looking like it was about to happen again when the door to the observer's deck slid open. "Oh Zed," Mara said, "I'm sorry, I just came down because…"

Zed knowingly smiled, "Because there's nothing else to do?"

"Yeah. Can I join you?"

"Sure, I mean there's not much to join. I've just been watching them practice."

She went to stand next to him at the window. There was a silence. A long silence. The only sound the two heard was the muffled disk clashes coming from the other side of the glass. Mara dared a glance at Zed. His eye met hers and they both turned away, embarrassed. She felt like she needed to say something, start a conversation, talk. The nebulous quiet between them was laden down by the sheer awkwardness of their meeting. "So…" she cast about for something to say, "Link seems to be doing better."

Zed sounded grateful, "Yeah, I guess all that training with Raven payed off."

"Maybe even more than that," she stepped closer to the window, "he seems to be doing almost as good as she is right now. Flynn knows we could use some more fighters like those two."

"Yeah," Zed replied glumly, "More fighters like them..."

Mara resisted the urge to facepalm, His leg, don't talk about fighting, "I'm sorry Zed-"

"It's fine," he said, even though his tone suggested otherwise.

Down on the combat floor, Raven threw another jab at Link who, again, dodged away. Alright, she thought, I'm tired and we've been practicing long enough. I'll beat him and then we can be done. She felt somewhat guilty about wanting to beat Link just to stop practicing, but she prefered that over just telling him she didn't want to do it anymore. Or even more bluntly, that she had never wanted to do it at all. She had been going easy at first, then when Link had shown he could fight her easily enough, she had upped her game to a moderate level of effort. She hadn't want to crush him at the outset and so she had played to his strengths, swinging her disk high to give him time to react, not pressing her advantage every time he gave her an opening, and letting him duck away from the edge whenever she pushed him too close. But the time for going easy was over, she just wanted to finish.

Raven whipped her disk at him, underhanded this time. The simulation prevented their cutting edges from activating so she wasn't worried about actually hurting him, but her attack was forceful enough to get the point across. Only, she never made contact. He side-stepped her swing and brought his disk down toward her back. She only had time to duck under it and sweep his feet, trying to knock him down. He fell, but quickly performed a kip-up and regained his footing. Raven launched an assault on him, just trying to land a blow, but he impressively kept out of her reach.

It was quick and she didn't see it coming. Frustrated, she had thrown a punch and over extended her reach. Link deftly stuck his hand through the hole in her disk and pulled it out of her grip. At the same time, he knocked Raven's front foot out from under her causing her to fall forward. She hit the ground and was about to roll to her feet when a buzzing near her ear stopped her. Turning slowly, she looked up at Link who stood over her, a disk in each hand.

Link lowered his helmet, showing a shy smile, "Not bad, right?" His smiled dropped, however, when Raven took her desk back and stormed out of the room. He watched her leave, not knowing what he'd done.

Up on the observation deck, Zed and Mara watched as Raven stalked out of the training floor.

"What is he doing?" Zed said. Even after Raven had left, Link just stood still in the middle of the room. Zed frowned, then looked at Mara, "There's a microphone in here, isn't there?"

"Yeah?" Mara replied. What did Zed want with the announcer's mic?

"Help me find it," Zed tapped one of the desks in the room and a desktop of sorts popped up. He began searching for the mic icon. When Mara didn't join in, he gave her a glance, "Are you going to help me?"

"Help you with what?" Mara asked, confused.

Zed gestured to Link, "The poor guy's clueless, I just want to give him a helping hand." He's not the only one, Mara thought, but quickly joined Zed at the controls.

Link was still thinking about what had just happened when a loud voice nearly scared half to death.

"Hey, uh, Link?"

Link turned to the observation room, "Who is-is that you Zed?"

"Yup. Now get moving."

"Get moving? I don't understand-"

It was Mara's voice this time, "Go after her, you bit!"

Link slapped himself in the face, "Oh, yeah, right," flustered he went one way, realized the entrance was the other way, then turned and sprinted out the door.

"Good luck," Zed said as he and Mara watched Link rush out of the room, "Do you think he's got a chance?"

"Maybe…" Mara replied, "I hope so he does."

"Yeah," Zed thought looking at Mara, "I hope I do too."

000

Check the left corner. No one. Check the right corner. One guard. Go left.

Beck had followed the map as closely as possible, but there were times when a patrol or squad blocked the shortest route to the city's edge. He was closer now, with only a couple streets between him and the outlands. Unfortunately, as the buildings thinned toward Purgos' outer rim, security had increased. Beck understood why, the edge was where programs would most likely make a break for it and escape the encamped city. Posting more troops here was a precaution against any escapee attempts. "They thought of everything," Beck grumbled. He was tired and his feet were sore from walking so much, but it was just this one last hurdle and then smooth sailing on a light cycle back to the Hideout.

He had been sizing up the last security checkpoint between him and the winding canyons of the outlands. From what he could tell, the checkpoint had twenty plus armed guards, two recognizers patrolling in and around the area, and an impressive fleet of tanks lining the city limits. If he was spotted, they could blast his voxels all the way to Tron City with all that firepower.

Gulping down his rising anxiety, Beck took an opening in a pair of spotlight search patterns. He was making progress towards a gap he'd seen in the tank line. It was slow going, ducking between small pieces of cover, sometimes for minutes, other times for fractions of a heartbeat before the guards turned back towards his position. He was currently hiding behind a large chunk of rubble, Beck guessed it was the result of the last time those tanks had had to fire at something. Or more likely a someone. Peeking over the debris, he surveyed the last line of guards, studying for an opening. A sinking feeling began to grow the longer he watched, there were no openings. The last line of soldiers were triple those of the others with six soldiers pacing the gate. Beck could discern no break in their field of vision, no place to slip between them. What was worse, one of the troopers was an honor guard which meant he'd be stronger and faster if he had to engage them.

Beck slumped back behind the piece of rubble. How was he going to do this? Maybe he could make his way down, moving parallel to the tank line until he saw another gap. But there was no guarantee there would even be another one. This might be the only one in the entire city and even if there was another, it might be a dozen leagues away. Beck rested his head back and groaned, the last thing he wanted to do was walk any more. The more valid concern, however, was the more often he moved, the greater chance he would get spotted. Was that a chance he was willing to take?

He pulled his head up at the sound of nearby conversation, "Twelve guards for outer perimeter patrol."

"Clear."

Beck craned his head out of his hiding place just in time to see a squad of guardsmen file through the gate. They didn't have the bulky shoulder pads of senties so they must have been simple infantry with their only weapons being a stun staffs. Beck had seen several squads just like this one march through the checkpoint while he made his approach. They seem to come and go every thirty micros like clockwork. Ducking back behind cover, Beck pulled out his disk and opened the appearance menu. If he could temporarily switch his gridlines to orange, then he might just have a plan.

000

A double file line of troops marched towards the gate. One of the patrolling guards noticed there were thirteen of them, an odd number. The soldier frowned. The Occupation didn't do "odd." What was more, the final program in line didn't carry a stun staff. The trooper watched with narrowed eyes, scrutinizing the formation's member. There it was! Was he sure he saw it? Yes, yes there it was. The final soldier in the line had taken not one, but two steps out of sync with the rest. That was unacceptable.

"Halt program," the thirteenth member stopped, but the other twelve kept marching. "Present your disk," he asked the odd man out. The program coolly drew his disk and handed it over. "Assignment files. I don't see an assignment to this gate in your-" the program had him in ahead lock. If he could just...just… he was...tired...vision…vision going...black

Beck dragged the unconscious soldier behind a building and took his stun staff. Now he truly looked the part. Stealing along an alleyway, he caught back up with the squad and joined their formation. He knew he still stood out, the group marched in sets of two which left him alone in the back, but he hoped that one extra soldier wouldn't raise anyone's suspicions.

They were past the fourth patrol. Only one more to go. The group came to a halt in front of the gate as two soldiers, one of whom was the honor guard, came to the front of the squad. They asked who Beck assumed to be the squad leader a couple questions, ticking checkboxes on datapads. And just like that, they were marching again. Beck resisted the temptation to look over his shoulder as they crossed underneath the gate into the outlands' patrol area, had that been really that easy? Soon after, the two columns of soldiers split up, taking opposite directions to patrol. No one noticed as a lone program slipped away into the darkness. At least, that's what Beck hoped.

000

"And then I was like, woosh! Pew pew pew!" several programs lounged around in one of the Hideout's commons areas. Most were sitting or resting on couches, listening to Dash retell their mission to blow up Able's garage and destroy the repurposer inside. "Jet and I were up in the air, firing down on them," Dash again initiated the sound of the laser canons on their light jets, "Pew pew, kaboom! There must have been two dozen, no, thiry guards on the ground and we got them all!"

Katie, who was sitting at a table nursing a glass of energy, gave Dash an amused, doubtful look. She turned to Jet who was also sitting at the table, "Did that really happen, Jet? I mean, there was only two of you guys."

All eyes were on Jet. He nonchalantly ran a hand over his short black hair, "It wasn't just the two of us, there were a couple other guys," The excitement in the room deflated. Took another sip of her drink, disappointed.

He caught Dash's eye. His friend was trying hard not to object, but his expression was almost beggerly, saying, "C'mon man, let me have this one." Jet slyly glanced between Dash and Katie and almost laughed. It was always about the girl.

"But," Jet added and everyone turned back to him, "I think there were more than thirty guards."

"Oh please," Katie replied, her finger absently twirling the liquid in her glass.

"No, I'm serious." Jet around in his chair to face Dash, "It was more like fifty soldiers, wasn't it?" He winked at Dash.

There were audible oohs and ahs from the assembled programs. More important to Dash, Katie now had her eyes on him, listening with interest. Dash gave Jet a brief grin and continued, "Yeah it was fifty guards done below. But it gets better, we even saved Tron!"

"No way," Katie said.

"Way," Jet replied.

"Me and Jet were shooting down on the troops, making sure they couldn't take off," Dash used his hand to illustrate the two light jets, "We've got them pinned when Jet points out a couple of dueling programs on the waterfront. 'Tron's in trouble!' Jet yells and we both-"

"Raven!" All heads turn in confusion they hear someone yelling in the hallway, "Raven!" Suddenly, Link pokes his head into room, his eyes quickly scanning faces, "No, she's not in here." Just as quickly as he came, Link darts back out. They can hear him running further down the corridor.

Dash is still looking at the doorway in confusion when Katie spoke up, "Then what happened?" As Dash continued his story, Link pounded done the halls. He checks each room, trying to find Rave, but all he's gotten are shrugs and vague directions. He checked several girls if she was in the female program's bunk room, but they said she wasn't. Next he had checked the commons rooms, but again nothing. At the end of the hall were the steps leading up to the observation deck. It was the last place he could think to look for her.

He took the stairs quickly, slipped, fell down them, then mounted them again, all the while trying to figure out what he'd done wrong. Had it been something he'd said? Maybe it was the training exercise, should it have been a different one? He personally hadn't really wanted to train today, but if Raven wanted to do it, then he was alright with it. So why had she stormed off like that? The doors to the Hideout's Observation Deck slid open and Link stepped through only to find that Raven was not here either.

Link crossed to the large windows and looked out. What had supposed to have been a nice day for him and Raven had completely fallen apart. She was angry and he didn't know why. He watched the pulsing lights of Argon with an air of melancholy, there were only a few hours left in the cycle, then it was sleep and back to the grind of the Uprising. If he could find her, he would apologize, for what he didn't know, but he'd find out and make it write. That was making the big assumption he actually found her before the cycle was over.

Dense and firm footsteps came up behind him. Link didn't even need to look to know who it was. "Hey Tron." Flynn's Champion didn't respond, "I could really use your help."

"If you're looking for Raven, I don't know where she is either."

Link's shoulders slumped. "So much for our day off." He caught Tron giving him a questioning look, "It's complicated, I'm not even really sure what happened myself."

"Mm," Tron acknowledged, "There's still some time left in the cycle." He turned to leave, but not before adding, "Don't give up just yet." Link heard the doors close and turned back to window.

"'Don't give up just yet,'" Link echoed Tron's words. Where was there left to look? He had- something flickered outside on the snow covered plateau. Link pressed his face to glass, squinting. It was someone running, no wait, they were resizing a light jet. Who-? Raven. Link spun on his heels and bolted for the doors. He had to get airborne before she was too far away.

000

The loud hum of an ion engine reverberated through the canyons. Beck was pushing his cycle to the max to cut time. He had missed his scheduled check in hours ago and he didn't want Tron or anyone else to risk getting caught by looking for him. Thus far he was making good time, having found several short cuts in the route he had initially chosen to get back to Hideout. Zed had augmented his light cycle with a compass to help him navigate the maze of canyons that criss-crossed the outlands. The compass was tuned to the mountain where the Uprising took shelter which helped; the mountain was visible for leagues in every direction. The original plan was to return on light jet, but he'd used his only jet baton to distract the honor guard leaving him with only his bike. It wasn't all bad, most of the terrain was surprisingly smooth, making the trip more comfortable than Beck would have expected. Still, getting back on his bike would mean it would take even longer to reach the base. Beck had resigned himself to the fact and simply focused on riding as fast as possible.

There was rarely a straight path in the outlands. The closest thing were passages that gradually curved to the left or the right, but these were few and far between. Often at the speeds Beck was going at, it meant quick turn after quick turn, threading consecutive narrow gaps, and the constant dipping and rising of the path. Tired as he was, he had to stay alert, one wrong move while going this fast and he'd pave the canyon floor in cubes. And it nearly happened. As he rounded another corner, he spotted what looked like a ramp. An elevated piece of rock that jutted out of the ground. Going too fast to stop, Beck was forced gun it over the ramp. He was glad he had. Hurtling through the air, he only got a glance at what he'd just jumped over and saw a long dark chasm below him. His momentum had been barely enough to make it to the other side, unfortunately the path took a hard right immediately in front of him. He activated his speed flaps and jammed the breaks, but he knew it wouldn't be enough and braced for the impact.

Beck's bike slammed into the rock wall. The sound of crushed stone and shattering plastic bounced around the canyon in a loud retort. A few yards away, Beck picked himself up off the ground. The slam had knocked him off the cycle and all things considered, he had escaped with only a few bruises and road burns. The crash had also cracked his helmet and Beck lowered so he could better see the damage.

"Fractured chasie, one or two engine cylinders dented," Beck pulled his bike, which had been lying on its side, upright only to have it fall back over again, "And at least one of the stabilizers. Great." With a sigh, Beck took out his wrench and plugged it into the light cycle. He didn't need to repair everything, just enough to get the bike rideable so he could drive back to base. Keeping that in mind, he mentally crossed off what didn't need fixing. The cycle's broken body didn't need immediate repair, they could stand a short trip. The engine cylinders, too could wait, Beck could route the power through the remaining ones in the engine. It put immense strain on the bike to do that, but he couldn't spend the four to five micro cycles taking the dents out by hand. What did need fixing were the stabilizers. You could ride a cycle without them, but given the tricky terrain in the outlands, he needed them for their added grip and handling.

He was finished in a matter of micros, this kind of damage having been what the mostly fixed back in Able's garage. It took a few extra revs to get the engine going, but it stayed steady once running. Beck pushed the throttle forward as far as he dared with his makeshift repairs and was off. But he hadn't gone far when heard something. The sound of cracking plastic and the screeching of twisting metal. It was the same sound his bike'd made when it had hit the wall. That meant there was another rider out here. It meant he had been followed.

Flynn's disk the honor guard was angry. He had successfully tracked the Renegade all the way through and out of Purgos only to have the give away his presence now. He had watched the Renegade make the jump, so his cycle had survived the sharp turn on the other side better than his prey's had. It had still make loud noise and unless the rogue program hadn't heard him over the din of his own engine, the Honor guard was sure he had been made. The only course of action left was to apprehend the Renegade and bring him in for questioning.

It turned out it wouldn't be so easy.

The Honor guard followed a trail of leaking energy from the other damaged bike only to find it end in a small opening in the canyon wall. Beyond lay a labyrinth of narrow corridors and passages. A maze within a maze. If he wanted the Renegade, he would have to find in that mess of halls. Admittingly the move was a clever one, this gave the rogue program a more level footing with the enhanced Honor guard. But two could play at this game.

000

Link was more than nervous. He had followed Raven's light jet for what seemed like forever. The tall mountain that marked the Hideout was far in the distance behind them, a distance that made Link uncomfortable. To be so far from base without being on a mission felt weird, but there were more important things to consider. Both his and Raven's light jets were the same model so neither was any faster than the other. The best Link could do was maintain the distance between Raven's jet and his until she landed. He was worried she would never land, but was relieved when she finally descended towards the scattered canyons of the outlands.

The alighted on a small plateau and didn't seem to notice Link land behind her. He could see her torso and shoulders tense with frustration. She stood there silently venting her anger into the lonesome air. This was first time it occured to Link that maybe talking with her all the way out here might not be such a good idea. It might just make her more angry knowing that he'd followed her instead of giving her space. But it was too late for that now. And so, with a deep breath, he crossed over to her.

She must have heard his footsteps as she turned to him before he spoke. Facing her made it even harder to say something and for a long moment, he didn't. Raven's initial glare slowly gave way one of abashment.

"Today went well..." she said.

"Yeah," Link rubbed the back of his neck, thinking, how was he supposed to do this? Honestly. He'd do it honestly. "Listen, I should have told you, I-I didn't really want to train today."

"You didn't?" Her tone carried a hint of exasperation, "Then why did you suggest it?!"

"I don't know," Link looked away, "I thought it's what you wanted to do."

"Did it ever occur to you to ask me what I wanted?" Reven shot back.

"That's why I suggested it! Because that's what I thought you did want to do today!"

Raven threw up her hands, "But you still didn't ask!"

Link frowned, "Fine, I didn't ask. Buy why then didn't you tell me you didn't want to do it?"

She shot him a look, "Because I thought it's what you wanted to do."

"Me?" Link replied, surprised.

"Yes, you," Raven shivered and hugged herself for warmth. It was unusually cold out here. "You're always so focussed getting better, training more that I didn't give a second thought to if that's what you wanted to do."

"Really?" Link almost smiled, "I always saw you as this amazing fighter. You always know what to do, how to react to stuff. It seemed like you enjoyed it so much that I didn't want to ruin it by saying I didn't like it."

Raven opened her mouth to say something, but paused. She met Link's eye with a humorously confused expression, "Did we just compliment each other?"

Link grinned, "I think we did," his smile waned as he crossed over to her. "Sorry?"

"Sorry," she leaned in to give him a kiss, but a flash in her peripheral vision stopped her short, "Link…" He turned around to see what she was looking at and there it was again, bright flashes. There was a sound too, like the clashing of disks.

000

This was not good. Beck had jumped the Honor guard from around a corner, knocking his disk out of the soldier's hand. As it turned out, he was plenty dangerous without it. With lightning speed, he had planted a kick into Beck's stomach sending him flying. He had rolled to his feet, but realized the blow had knocked the guard's disk out of his hand. The trooper had picked it up and let loose on Beck, his disk a mere trail of light zig-zagging through the air.

Now Beck was on the backfoot, doing everything in his power to simply stave off the Honor guard's onslaught. But he was tired from traveling all day and that combined with his injuries from the earlier crash put him at even more of a disadvantage than before. He was pure defense, giving up ground at every attack, anything to keep the blindingly fast soldier from derezzing him. He risked a glance over his shoulder, the Honor guard was backing him into a corner, soon he'd have Beck pinned and there would be nothing he could do about it. His brief lapse in attention cost him as the soldier landed another firm kick that sent Beck sailing backwards, right into the corner he'd just seen.

"It's over," the guardsman said. Beck couldn't but agree. He had nothing left in him. The Honor guard took a step forward to finish the job, but was rebuffed as a new disk ricocheted near his feet causing him to take a few steps back. The disk rebounded upward to its owner, a tall female program with a lean but powerful build. Next to her was a slim but toned male program who also had his disked revved. Both program wore their visors up, a fact the Honor guard only had seconds to note as both program descended on him.

Raven landed with a roll and launched her disk at the soldier. He deflected it easily, but then had to deal with Link who landed behind him. The couple hammered away at the Honor guard who despite the increased speed and strength of the power mod, barely kept up with the barrage of attacks from both sides. He could tell the two weren't as experienced fighters as the Beck was, but there twice as many of them. He slowly began to figure out their patterns, spying chinks in their forms. Link's stance opened up and just as the guard was about to strike, a fourth disk entered the fray. Beck didn't have much energy left, but Raven and Link needed all the help they could get. Now with three on one, the guardsman was outmatched as they slowly pushed him back into the very corner he'd tried to force Beck into.

"No," the guard thought, "it can't end like this, I can't fail, I can't-" but Link had spotted an opening and with a swift kick to the soldier's helmet, knocked him out cold.

000

"Thanks for the help," Beck said. All three were on a plateau above the canyons.

"Don't mention it," Raven replied. She gestured to the power mod in Beck's hand. They'd taken it off the guard. "You better not lose that," she poked.

Beck gave them a tired smile, "I'll see you guys back at the Hideout," he held up the light jet baton, "You guys really don't mind me borrowing this?"

Link gave Raven a nudge, "We'll be fine flying back together."

As Beck took off, Raven turned to Link, "We still have couple hours left before the cycle's over," she put her arm through his, "What would you like to do?"

Link gave it a moment, then said, "Nothing."

Raven's expression was puzzled, "Nothing?"

He took his arm from her and sat done on the ledge of the plateau. He gestured for her to join him, "Yeah, nothing."

She sat done next to him. They rest their heads on each other. "Nothing sounds good."